


The Wrong Door to Knock On

by MistyBeethoven



Series: "Yes, I Really Am This Pathetic!" or "How to Say I Love You With a Story" [56]
Category: Knock Knock (2015)
Genre: Anger, Anxiety Disorder, Attraction, Avoidant Personality Disorder, BBW, Between Rage and Serenity, Bondage, Breast Fucking, Cat and Mouse, Chair Bondage, Chair Sex, Chasing, Computers, Cunnilingus, Dancing, Dark, Dark Love Story, Dark Romance, Demisexuality, F/M, Facials, Fear, For Adults Only, Forgive Me, Forgiveness, Fuck the World, Games, Guilt, Hide and Seek, Hiding, Horror, Hunters & Hunting, Hurt/Comfort, Internal Conflict, Large Breasts, Loss of Virginity, Love, Mistaken Identity, Misunderstandings, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Oral Sex, Overweight, Pain, Pearl Necklace, Penis In Vagina Sex, Poetry, Predator/Prey, Prostitution, Pubic Hair, Pursuit, Rage, Rape, Rape Fantasy, Rape Roleplay, Rape/Non-con Elements, Revenge, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Roughness, Safewords, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, Serious, Sex, Shame, Shyness, Soulmates, Storms, Stranded, Survival Horror, Taxis, Tenderness, The Ramones References, Thunder and Lightning, Trapped, Vacation, Virginity, Weight Issues, fathers, storm sex, surrender, unintentional rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:08:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25272154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyBeethoven/pseuds/MistyBeethoven
Summary: When my cab breaks down and it suddenly starts to storm, I find myself luckily stranded in a seemingly innocent and picture perfect neighborhood filled with presumably happy families where the most dangerous thing seems to be the occasional flash of lightning.Choosing a house which seems a little more lonely than the rest to approach for help, I am taken off guard when a handsome man named Evan Webber invites me inside to use his internet to reserve a cab. It is with horror that I soon realize I might have chosen the wrong door to knock on as Webber suddenly turns sexually menacing and begins to chase me throughout his house. Things aren't always as they seem, though, I soon realize and revenge can suddenly and unexpectedly be turned on its head in the blinking of an eye for an eye...WARNING: THIS MIGHT BE THE DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT ENTRY OF THIS SERIES. NOT SURE. :/
Relationships: Evan Webber & Vivian (Knock Knock), Evan Webber (Knock Knock)/Me, Evan Webber/Karen (Knock Knock), Karen & Vivian (Knock Knock)
Series: "Yes, I Really Am This Pathetic!" or "How to Say I Love You With a Story" [56]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589944
Comments: 23
Kudos: 18





	1. First Knock

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say about "Knock Knock"
> 
> I hated it.
> 
> Other than Keanu was nice eye candy.
> 
> But honestly, I hate threesomes with a fiery passion. They ick me out and disgust me. Somebody will always get their feelings hurt in one if they honestly care. And if they don't, that means it's all just for sex and that grosses me out. Blah...
> 
> So this is the mess of a fic I make for a mess of a movie. :P <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When my taxi breaks down, I meet Evan Webber with frightening results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After finishing up 4 of the 9 fics I was juggling, I decided to make a new ongoing one. Here it is. It's a rapey mess that will probably offend anybody that likes this series. Don't worry though. I have upcoming "Hardball" & "I Love You to Death" ones that will be far sweeter than this. Although, I think this will kind of be like the "Exposed" entry and will have its merits in turn. If you squint hard enough. :/ <3

**_"I will not hide from my dark side, it simply would not do, For we are each other, we are one another, And you can never escape what is you."_ **

**_\- E.K.S._ **

Knock, knock, knock the engine of the taxi cab I was driving in sounded and I could sense something _bad_ was about to happen.

When it finally broke down on the way back to the hotel where I was staying in California, I cursed my bad luck and the fact that it hadn't just tried to hang in there for a couple more minutes or kilometers, whichever would have done the trick. I was visiting Los Angeles on vacation but I wouldn't have minded doing a little dirty work and walking back to the hotel by myself. Not knowing how to drive, I was used to walking everywhere usually anyway in my small Ontario town. Along the way, I could have comforted myself, at least, that my room would have been air conditioned when I arrived back to it and I'd saved up enough to splurge on room service. We were still too far for me to feel safe walking back to my temporary home, as it was, and I was only still a tourist, one whom didn't know her way around the city enough to save her life.

"Know if you can fix it?" I asked the cabby with the thick moustache and cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth. The moment the car had died and he'd gone to check under the hood, the cancer stick had appeared and I knew the man was placing all of his own anxiety in its long, rolled, thin, white tube instead of realeasing all of his actual anger. I was grateful for it. With the muted plethora of profanity he had released when his yellow and black chariot had died, I would have hated to see what the man was really like when he allowed himself to be upset. Some guys were like that: They needed to place all of their pent up anger and frustration into a single act in order to save others from experiencing their true rage and pain.

"No, I _know_ that I can't," he spat at me past his cigarette and I wondered how he could unleash his spittle in my direction while still keeping his cigarette held tightly between his lips, which I only saw the bottom one of, the moustache obscuring the top.

"Can I take the tow truck with you back to the garage or stand?" I asked hopefully.

"Against union rules, sorry," he replied hopelessly. "Best to phone for another cab."

"Can't you use your radio?"

"That's been busted too. I was actually going to bring 'er in a few minutes before I picked you up cuz of the radio going on the blink, and the way she'd been soundin' for a few miles, but I thought I could manage one last fare and tip. But you got a phone right?"

I frowned and shook my head. "I left it back at the hotel, recharging. Could you use your's to call me another cab?"

He shrugged in sudden sympathy but there was clearly amusement dancing in his blue eyes. "It needs a good recharge too. All it had in it was that last call to the garage. I was going to..."

"...do _that_ when you brought the car in," I finished for him and turned around.

Sighing, I looked up at the sky which suddenly seemed to be threatening to also rejoice in my misery by adding rain to the mixture of being stranded and phoneless.

"Maybe someone around here would let ya use their phone," my driver suggested. "Looks like a pretty decent neighborhood. Probably just families and their twelve billion fucking children and their sweet little shitting dogs and cats."

Lowering my eyes from the clouds, I saw that he was right: the view before me was of perfect, well maintained and respectable homes. Some had even left some evidence of their offspring on the front lawns: a small pink tricycle, some toy trucks and a baseball bat. Surely there would be somebody here that could help me, I reassurred my frazzled nerves.

"Okay, thanks," I said and offered the man a small wave. He offered it back to me but I was usure if it was really a wave or if it was more like he was shooing me away. My eyes remained on him for a few seconds, my heard turning back over my shoulder to see him leaning over the opened hood. I couldn't tell if the smoke that was rising up to greet the rain was coming from the engine or the cigarette which was still probably dangling from his lips.

While the shower continued to add more and more raindrops to its army, making the gray of the street before me begin to appear black, I felt like some overweight Little Red Riding Hood walking in a forest made of picture perfect houses instead of trees and I held myself as a shiver rudely decided to take over my body and make it tremble in some unfulfilled sense of dread. Anxiety was my ever constant companion. Coming to Los Angeles, I couldn't escape from the Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Avoidant Personality and Generalized Anxiety which usually held more sway over my life than I ever willingly wanted to let them. They followed me even here to this rumored paradise, where it was never supposed to rain, and was also making me hesitate from choosing a door to knock on right away. Some alarm kept flashing inside of my soul whenever I went to move towards this one or that.

" _Not that one,_ " it would whisper with all malignant helpfulness. " _Not that one either. You'd better wait, Erin. You wouldn't want something **bad** to happen now, would you?_"

I tried to calm myself; there wasn't really anything to fear besides the rain. Then the lightning and thunder started and I knew that I had to make a decision quickly because there was always a very logical reason to fear a bolt of electricity. Even with those alarms blaring inside of my head, I ran towards this one specific house which was separated from the others and a little more lonely looking. The lights looked off in more rooms, the curtains drawn and there were no toys strewn about the front lawn.

" _Oh not **that** one!_" my OCD screamed. " _Any house but **that** one!_"

But _that_ was the one that I chose anyway; that was the door my finger found the buzzer to, which lay to its side, and then my knuckles hit its wooden surface when that didn't seem to work.

"Oh please," I whispered, begging both God and whomever was on the other side to just open the door before another flash of lightning lit up the sky.

In a second or two, my prayer was answered and a man stood before me. He was tall and had stubble thick enough to make it a beard inside of my mind. His small brown eyes roamed from the top of my auburn-brown curly haired head to my comfortable and cheap pair of canvas shoes. I saw him studying my Ramones t-shirt and my pair of jeans, and how they were wet from the rain, but could not easily read his look for it seemed blank somehow. Studying him in return, I noted his tall height and his somewhat hulking build. His clothes were casual, a gray t-shirt and a pair of dark trousers. He had a slightly rumpled look about him like he had been sleeping all day or lounging. Behind him, lying on the ground in the hall, were some children's toys so I guessed he must be a dad. Oddly enough, the realization made me feel a little sad and I realized in embarrassment that I was attracted to the stranger after only having known he existed for a few seconds.

"Yes?" he asked and pretty well did me in because I knew then too that I liked the sound of his voice as well; it was deep and obviously male, two things which always made me go _crazy_.

"My cab broke down, I don't have my phone on me and...and i-it's raining," I stammered. A crack of thunder sounded behind me, loud enough to cause vibrations from its volume which made me shake. "And there's lightning too on top of it all," I added, my voice sounding scared and frightened.

"You want to use the phone or the internet?" he asked.

I thought about it quickly. My shyness was paralyzing most of the time. So much so that I actually used to ask my sister to handle phone calls for me. Talking on the phone while the handsome man in front of me was listening in didn't appeal to me; choosing the simple clicking of a mouse and the quick hitting of a few keys on a keyboard, I decided that I was more comfortable with the latter option even if the man offering it to me came as a suprise. I expected him to call a cab for me himself or just to bring me the phone.

"I...Can I use your net?"

The stranger's features relaxed and I thought to myself that it looked as if he had been waiting for me to say this; like he had _wanted_ me to. "Yeah, sure," he said, stepping out of the way to let me come in.

Walking by him as he stood in the doorway, I accidentally brushed against him but didn't regret it, liking the feel of his large, soft yet tough body. I thought he breathed in quickly as our bodies met and I found some sexual excitement stirring in me as I quickly rushed forward.

" _You dirty, bad girl_ ," my inner bully scolded. " _Getting turned on by a stranger and a father no less. Look! His kids' toys are even just a few feet away from you, you disgusting thing!_ "

Guiltily, I turned to look at the playthings on the floor to remind me that the man was somebody's dad but something suddenly hit me as odd about them. A coloring book with the crayons all kept safely in a box which looked brand new? Being an artist from the ripe old age of two, and having gone through several boxes of Crayolas, I was familiar with the worn way the top would start to get, hanging on by the edge, the more you used them. I doubted that the ones lying on the stranger's floor had ever left their yellow cage. They certainly had never made contact with the still uncolored pages of the book for which they found their primary existence. Similarly, the Barbie doll looked too pristine; her hair had not become that frazzled plastic mess that my own dolls all eventually acquired and her clothes looked straight out of the box fresh. A stuffed teddy bear's fur was also too fluffy. The more any stuffed toy was loved, the more it became matted. Everything on the floor of the house looked too new and unused. They also looked too neatly left behind, as if their placement had been deliberate and without the natural thoughtless chaos created by a child.

"Sorry," the man apologized coming up to me. "The place is a mess. My wife Karen took the kids with her to the beach. My shoulder has been bothering me lately so I was left behind to my own devices."

"I...I hope you're feeling better soon," I said, still staring at the eeriely arranged toys and feeling like his words sounded strangely rehearsed and possibly repeated often. "And that you won't get too lonely."

"Well I can just listen to the rain," he replied. "It's soothing enough. And you're here. At least, until your cab arrives."

I looked up into his face to see him smiling down at me. Another shudder and wave of arousal hit me. I could feel his closeness from the heat his body was emanating straight through my wet clothes and to my damp flesh. Knowing my hormones were getting the better of me, I asked where the computer was and he lead me deeper into the house to show me. A monitor was situated to one side of the living room, beside a staircase, and I briefly took in an old record player and stereo. "My grandpa had one like that," I commented.

He glanced back at me as if I had just insinuated he was so elderly he could be my grandfather.

"Not that you're old!" I quickly tried to correct myself. "I mean you've got to be only a decade of fifteen years older than I am."

"How old are you?" he inquired, wanting to gauge the truth for himself.

I gave him my age and he looked at me in slight shock. "You look younger," he commented. "But, then again, so many people lie about their ages these days...girls trying to be older...women trying to be younger. And with all of the stuff they make to put on their faces, you never can tell."

I laughed. "I don't wear makeup. My mom wouldn't let me until I turned sixteen. By then I didn't want to. Even now if I put it on I feel like my skin can't breathe."

"Good not to start," the man said. "Karen used to say it creates wrinkles."

"Used to?" I repeated, feeling unnerved by his unexpected contradiction. "I thought you said she was out with your kids?"

The bearded man studied me but his face showed no signs of being scared or of having been caught in a lie. "She _used_ to say it before she got older and started to use more and more of the same junk to hide her new wrinkles."

"Oh," I said. Feeling embarrassed since it seemed like I had just accused my Good Samaritan of telling a lie. I quickly added, "I remember when I was about seven I watched my mom putting on her make up. I told her, 'You be proud of those wrinkles, Mommy; you earned them!'"

The man laughed in genuine amusement. "I'll have to remember to use that one on my wife. My name's Evan Webber, by the way," he said, taking his hand from out of his pocket for me to accept along with the introduction.

I shook it, enjoying the feeling of his slightly dry skin and the strength of his handshake. "I'm Erin Smyth," I said, shaking his hand back in return.

"Well, Erin, there's the computer. Go ahead, contact your cab."

He turned around and left me to go and sit on the sofa with his back towards me. I watched his handsome shoulders, one of which was hurting him, as he took out his cellphone and started to, presumably, surf the net or peruse the gallery on it.  
I plopped my wet rump on the computer desk's chair. Evan and I sat back facing back in the living room. While I searched Google for the right cab company, my eyes would sometimes move around the room to the photgraphs on the wall or beside the monitor. His wife was beautiful, even if it was due to make-up, and his children inherited both of their parents looks. Realizing a specific requested page had downloaded, I quickly started to reserve a cab before realizing I had no idea where I was.

"Um...where am I?" I asked Evan.

"Earth."

Thinking he was being funny, I asked. "Where on Earth?"

"Los Angeles."

Picking up on his game, I more specifically inquired, "But what _number_ of house and on what _street_ in Los Angeles, California am I currently at?"

Webber laughed, seemingly happy I had learned how to play by his rules. He then gave me the requested information. Typing away, I was startled to hear the computer make a noise and thought I had busted it somehow until my sole source of company turned around. "That's probably work related," he said. "I'm expecting a huge file of some blueprints I need. I'm an architect."

Taking the hint, I swiftly finished my reservation and slid away from the desk as Evan Webber came over to take my place. I was offered another view of his long, wide back and strong shoulders and realizing that I wanted to touch them, along with the fact that it would look like I was spying on him, I turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" Evan Webber asked.

"To wait outside," I remarked, feeling that it was better for me to be as far away from the happily married man as I could be; then my mind wouldn't conjure up impure thought after impure thought and my OCD wouldn't berate me for each one.

"No, you're not," he stated. "Not while it's raining. Take a seat on the couch."

"I'm wet," I argued.

"You'll dry," he argued right back. "Besides you already soaked this chair."

Frowning and looking to the floor, I suddenly gave in and walked to the chair opposite to the sofa Evan had been sitting on. While he clicked away on the computer, I looked at the hands folded on my lap and laced them together until they resembled a zipper. I used to do that when I was a kid waiting in the examing room to see the Doctor. While I'd always thought of a zipper on a jacket, now, however, my mind was flooded with the thought of the fly on the front of Evan Webber's pants and I also helplessly thought of his penis on the other side of it. I wondered about its length and how it would feel. Being so painfully shy, I was still a virgin but my mind usually found its way back to sex sooner or later. It was similar to John Carpenter once saying Laurie Strode was the most sexual character in Halloween because, since she never had sex, it was all she could ever think of. I unlaced my hands and inhaled sharply, raising my eyes from them. As I did, they momentarily went to the back of Evan Webber's head and down to the monitor where I thought I caught a glimpse of site for the cab company I had just visited.

I thought I had x-ed it but I must have been mistaken.

"Did I leave that open?" I asked apologetically.

"Don't worry; I was just about to close it," the man said. I watched as he did and then came back over to sit on the sofa where he had been sitting before. "So you like the Ramones?"

I nodded enthusiastically. "I love their music and Joey had OCD like I do."

"I'm sorry to hear that about the OCD but you have good taste."

I looked at him staring at my shirt and suddenly couldn't tell if he was truly looking at the image printed on it or if he was staring at my large wet breasts. The rain had made the shirt cling to me and made the fabric trace the shape of each one of my breasts. Evan Webber looked almost hungry and I became consious of each breath I was taking.  
I suddenly suspected that he wasn't as happily married as his photographs were trying to suggest. A naughty image filled my mental vision of going to the fly I had thought of before and opening it to discover what the penis it was shielding really did look like. Was it fat and short, thin and long, fat and long? Was he a grower or a _show_ -er? My mind had a million different questions, not least of which was what would the man taste like and what action from my mouth, lips and tongue could help get him off the most.

" _Bad dirty girl_ ," my bullying brain said. " _Wanting to suck on the cock of a married man_."

This time the voice was right. I really did _want_ to. I hated men cheating but my body and heart had this impulse to make a hurting and neglected married man feel good, to make him feel sexy and desirable again as I pleased his surrendering body; I wanted to feel him sticking his hot and appreciative organ inside of me until it shot off, filling me with his cum. I pictured Evan Webber fucking me on the coffee table between us or on the kitchen one where he'd then have breakfast with his perfect little family when they came home from the beach. I was becoming wet now on the other side of my jeans too, I knew, as my cream started to gush out. Knowing it was all a sin, though, and something I couldn't ever actually bring myself to do, I bit my lip in pain and then looked away quickly.

My sudden movement made the man raise his dazed eyes. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked and seemed genuinely concerned.

There is no way to tell a man you just met that you hate yourself because you just pictured screwing one another's brains out in a kitchen you've never even seen. Especially when you are probably only making up the fact that he is oggling your breasts and not just looking at Joey, Johnny, Dee Dee and Tommy Ramone.

"I'm okay," I said. "It's just been a tiring day with my cab breaking down, forgetting my phone and the storm. Storms scare me a little and I just want to get back to my hotel before it gets really bad. Besides, I thought it never rained here."

Evan Webber looked sympathetic. "No, it does. More than you think. I have some Ramones records. How about I play some while you wait? To help calm you down.

I nodded in gratitude. "I'd like that. What if I miss the cab though?"

"Just keep an eye on the clock," he said as he rose and pointed to a large one behind my head. I had about seventeen minutes to wait, it announced indifferently.

"Okay."

I watched as the man went to his record player and fished out the record he was looking for. "I used to be a DJ," he stated as the round piece of vinyl fell down onto the turntable.

"You did?" It was something to say, not really because I doubted his declaration. I just needed to distract myself from his nice, large ass facing my direction.

"Yeah," he restated as the needle dropped and a song began to play.

Evan Webber walked back to the sofa and resumed his favorite place on the sofa. As the album progressed, I kept turning to look at the clock behind me until the man stated, "Don't bother giving yourself whiplash; I'll tell you when it's time."

"Thanks," I said with a smile.

We listened in silence. However, when Blitzkrieg Bop came on, the DJ turned architect had a rather strange request for me. "If you dance to this song for me, Erin, I'll give you enough money for the cab ride back to your hotel."

"You aren't serious," I countered after a few seconds spent trying to convince myself I had heard him right.

Webber leaned forward and nodded. "Make the Ramones on your t-shirt dance for me too."

My clit going wild in my blue jeans, I knew what he was really asking me to do was shake my tits for him.

" _Bad, bad girl! You shouldn't do that! Not for some married guy you just met about forty-five minutes ago!_ "

Thinking of that, I went to look at the clock behind me, hoping it was time. Evan Webber's deep and commanding tone stopped my head halfway there, however. "You have plenty of time. Just this _one_ song, Erin."

His tone was suddenly menacing, his eyes changing equally abruptly from being gentle and kind to threatening and cold. Realizing if I tried to make it to the front door I would have to run by him, his place on the sofa a little before where I sat, I also knew that I could not make it there without the man having fair opportunity to grab me and prevent me from getting also to my taxi. Giving in to his order seemed a better more _easier_ choice so I stood and started to move a bit clumsily to the music.

"Move your hips more," Evan said, his voice rough with excitement as he lowered his gaze to them.

I started to, trying to swing them about in a slow and seductive figure eight.

"Move your shoulders," he said after grunting in approval.

I acquiesced with this as well, moving my chest at the same time.

"Thrust your chest out now."

The father seemed hypnotized by my breasts and the accompanying movements of the Ramones. I felt my nipples turning hard and tingly and when Evan Webber saw this happening through the wet, thin fabric of my shirt, I watched as his hand found his own stiffening cock and started to play with it.

"Go up and down," he ordered.

I complied once more, watching the man's hand doing a similar movement on his rising shaft as my boobs bounced. "Usually...usually I like thinner women but I'm...I'm beginning to see the light about a big, busty beauty," he moaned and commented.

Always one to respond well to praise, I found my arousal growing deeper also. My nipples and clitoris all felt uncomfortably and wonderfully swollen. Guilt surging through me, I stopped myself about the same time as the song ended.

"When the next song comes on dance to it too," Evan Webber said breathlessly as he continued to work his organ which looked frighteningly large in his pants.

"I have to go," I pleaded. Scared, I turned to the clock. My mouth opened in shock as I realized the hands were in the wrong spots: it was ten minutes past the time my taxi was scheduled to come. "It's too late," I said in a low frightened voice, having turned my head to look at my failed watchman. "They'll be gone by now."

"Don't feel too bad," Evan Webber said as he stood, his erection pointing at me through the fabric of his pants. "They were never coming anyway; I cancelled it."

I thought of the email coming in on the computer while the man had been sitting behind me on his phone. There had been no incoming and expected blueprints, he had sent a message to himself. And I had closed the window just as I remembered. The man had simply gone to the browsing history, found the site and then cancelled my reservation to keep me with him.

"I need to get back to my hotel," I said, holding myself, frightened by the vengeful and lust filled look in Webber's eyes while he continued to stare at me.

"YOU THINK YOU CAN SHOW UP HERE, LOOKING THE WAY YOU DO AND JUST LEAVE?" he asked forcefully as he unbuckled his trousers. "YOU THINK YOU CAN TURN ME ON, MAKE ME BETRAY MY WIFE AND FAMILY AND THEN WRECK MY LIFE? WHERE DO YOU GET OFF PLAYING YOUR LITTLE GAMES WITH MEN? WELL WE'RE GOING TO PLAY MY GAME NOW! THIS TIME YOU HIDE AND I'LL SEEK. THIS TIME YOU RUN AND I'LL BE IT! THIS TIME I MAKE YOU PAY FOR BEING A VERY DIRTY GIRL!"

Evan undid his zipper and showed off his erect and weeping cock to me. It was large, angry and terrifying. At the same time my cunt twitched in the strong need to embrace the monster and my clit throbbed in its appreciation while my heart was filled with terror. Seeing madness in the man's eyes, illuminated all the more by a flash lightning, I started to cry in desperation before I started to run into an unknown and adjoining dark room of the Webber household. A clap of thunder sounded, the Ramones record still played and I could hear the sudden approach of Evan Webber's footsteps behind me as my heart pounded in my chest in time to Tommy Ramone's drumming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW Evan isn't in the same house as the one from the film here. But I'll get into that later.


	2. Second Knock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I make a startling discovery about Evan Webber as he pursues me throughout his house.

I heard Evan behind me, his footsteps slow and even as Joey Ramone kept on singing. There was a door to the side which led outside, I could see trees and rain through the window at the top but I couldn't get the lock; it needed a key.

"HELP!" I started to scream and bang the door."

"Can't go that way," I heard my pursuer's voice suddenly say and turned to see him standing watching me from the threshhold I had just crossed. He was holding up a key while his body's own one was still sticking out from his fly. "Upstairs or downstairs. You choose."

I looked in fright to a staircase leading upstairs and to a door between us that led to the basement presumably from the indication of the man's words and the logical structure of the house itself. In any case, that one seemed hopeless with Webber watching me. Easily reading my thoughts, he smiled. "I'll give you a fighting chance. I'll turn my back."

"You'll still hear," I said, my voice shaking.

He smiled in crazed delight. "Oh you're right! How about I block my ears and count to thirty? You like that? You like playing games, after all."

"Please," I begged. "I...I don't like games. Not ones like this."

Evan Webber spun around and placed his fingers in his ears. "One...two..."

"Please..."

"You better get going..." he warned.

And I did.

As I ran up the stairs, I heard him still counting as a flash of lightning lit up my ascent to the second floor. It was dark and I was grateful for the light. Upstairs finally, there was nothing really to see but a corridor with several doors to choose from, some various artwork on the walls and some plants, all life like but artificial, placed in a few corners. I could still hear Webber counting down below me, his voice having risen to either reach me where I was downstairs or up, whichever one I had chosen. I ran to a window immediately before me but found it painted shut. No amount of effort could open it, so I opened the first door that I could. It looked like a room for a boy but, just like the toys down stairs, it didn't look authentic somehow. No child would ever be so neat and tidy as supposedly the boy that lived in this room was and it looked more like a museum piece than something which was actually used.

Hearing Evan's counting stop, I froze, feeling my heart racing.

"READY OR NOT HERE I COME, GENESIS!" he shouted, his voice causing vibrations in my body just as equal to those made by the thunder. "AND YOU WANT ME TO COME DON'T YOU, YOU SEXY BITCH! THAT'S WHY YOU CAME HERE AFTER ALL! SO MY ROAD TO _HELL_ WOULD BE PAVED IN IT?"

I heard him taking a few steps forward and suddenly opening the basement door. Happily I ran to the top of the stairs, thinking that when he was down there I could run back to the front door, when I suffered disappointment as I saw the top of his black haired head hesitating over the rail while he second guessed himself. He was shutting the door and I was backing up, running to choose another door which lay behind me. I chose the one in the middle hoping he would reason I had chosen either the first door available to me or the one farthest away.

As I ran to it, I hated the way that I was vaguely excited by this whole scenerio and the fact that a man I had previously been attracted to was now chasing me throughout his house with his dick sticking out, ready and hard. I thought of his hulking frame pursuing me, his dark attractiveness and the fact that he seemed imposing and all male. My anxiety was off the map feeling as if I was about to die or be assaulted and yet a dark and not even hidden part of myself enjoyed this and the thought of...

Opening the door, my thoughts were interrupted when I realized I had probably entered the house's main bedroom. The bed was large enough for a husband and a wife, father and mother to their children, and while being in the lair of the man whom was hunting me felt possibly too close for it to actually offer me any safety, I had no choice but to move forward. In fact, I felt an odd compulsion to do so, like Chicken Little willingly walking into Foxy Loxy's den to find out more about his killer before the consumption or Red Riding Hood wanting to lie herself down in her own wolf's nest before he devoured her as well.

Walking towards the bed, I noticed that while there was one photograph of Evan Webber's children with their father there were none to be found of his wife Karen anymore. The room seemed to be solely masculine in a way, just little things like the art on the walls, the books I quickly could identify lying scattered here and there and that it looked a little more untidy than the woman I had seen in the photograph downstairs would ever let her personal domain become. It also smelt a little more masculine than feminine; the accumulation of sweat, something that might have been semen, pizza, beer...these were once again things I associated, when grouped together like this, with a man and the scent of it made me excited again as did the thought of Evan Webber pounding into me on the king sized bed before me if he managed to find me.

" _Bad girl even at a time like this you can't keep your thoughts from going to the gutter. You really are disgusting you are..._ "

What I really _was_ was heading to that same bed and crawling under it because I heard Evan Webber finally reaching the second story. My belly brushed against the hardwood floor, my Ramones shirt having lifted up slightly as I pushed myself under the bed and went to the far edge, hoping if the man were to come in and take a glance the perspective from his angle and height would block me from his view. Under the bed, I noticed that there were old newspapers and some of those tabloid rags that my grandfather used to love and believe every word of. Lightning helped to give me a better glance at the cover of one that was literally right under my nose and I quickly read the headline.

_ **EVAN WEBBER, ADULTERER AND VICTIM OF HOME INVASION, ABANDONED BY WIFE AND CHILDREN! LIVING ON HIS OWN IN CALIFORNIA!** _

My heart gave one loud pound to match the thunder. Seeing a newspaper clipping by the rag, my hand found it and pushed it closer to the little light provided by the window despite the dark clouds spewing out rain in the freedom of the world outside. I was somewhat good at reading in the dark. When I had shared a room with my older sister, after my parents divorce, I had always had trouble getting to sleep again after waking in the early morning. She, on the other hand, could do it effortlessly. Loving to read, I had found myself keeping a book close by so I could read it in the morning sunlight without turning on the light to disturb her. Now this was coming in handy as I sped read the article Webber kept hidden under his bed, along with, presumably, a hundred others.

**Famous artist Karen Alvarado has sucessfully sued architect husband Evan Webber for custody of their two children Lisa and Jake. Last year, while Alvarado and her children were out on vacation at the beach, Webber, whom was at their family home alone and with a bad shoulder, willingly let two women, known here only as Genesis and Bel, into his house after they claimed to be going to a party. Webber proceeded to have consensual sexual relations with both of the women. The two women soon terrorized the father of two inside of his house, however, filming one sexual encounter with the man, allegedly nonconsensual, while one of the women was dressed in his daughter's clothing. They left Webber buried on the property for his wife and children to discover and uploaded the video to various social media sites before leaving with the family dog, Monkey. Bel and Genesis, whom had done this to several married fathers in the past, were soon apprehended by Webber himself when he tracked them down using the GPS on his dog's collar. However, the incident was too much for Alvarado, whom sought divorce on the grounds of infidelity, mental cruelty and sexual indecency and then custody. Judge Belford Harper agreed with the plantiff's claims that her ex husband would be a destructive influence on both her and their children, a claim further supported by a psychiatrist's findings after several sessions with Webber, whom was left supposedly seriously disturbed and traumatized after the aforementioned events.**

My hand was shaking as I grabbed another article nearby which announced that Bel and Genesis had been sentenced to several years in prison and strict rehabilitation when I dropped it immediately after hearing the bedroom door opening.

Evan Webber entered the room whistling Blitzkrieg Bop. Another appearance of lightning showed me a glimpse of his old, skuffed shoes and I held my breath as he started to walk around the room, going to the closet first. Knowing his back was turned, my impulse was to crawl under the bed and run to the door but I knew my weight would impede me and he more likely than not hear the sound of my movement, especially from the inevitable crinkling sound made by my body pushing past his collection of articles. At the same time, I couldn't help but realize in horror that he would find me under the bed eventually, it being the next place to look. I was trapped.

Trembling and trying not to breath, I heard, the sound of hangers sliding on the rod inside of the closet and knew Evan was searching to see if I was hiding inside of the space somewhere. His whistling continued and I watched as the ass I had been trying not to admire by the turntable appeared in my line of vision when he squatted down. It looked like he was grabbing another tabloid off of the closet floor.

"Huh," the man said. "Forgot about this one."

He picked the rag up and I watched as his feet moved back to the side of the bed facing the door. The man's next movement saw him throwing himself on to the bed and I listened to the pages turning as he began to read from the magazine.

Outloud.

"'Vivian, a close friend of Karen Alvarado, says that the woman is completely content in her new life with Mr. Sanchez, whom is seven years her junior. She is quoted as saying, 'if that _sleazeball_ Evan Webber hadn't shown his true colors then Karen never would have needed a divorce attorney and never would have met the perfectly divine Ramon. If she can thank that _sleazeball_ ex-husband of hers for anything, besides Jake and Lisa, it's that, I suppose.' We could not reach the new Mrs. Sanchez for comment.'"

There was silence for a few seconds until it was disturbed by the creaking of the mattress as Evan Webber quickly moved his body. Suddenly his head appeared hanging over the side of the bed closest to me and his brown eyes looked straight into my own.  
"I think using sleazeball twice was kind of redundant, don't you?" he calmly inquired of me as his black hair hung around his bearded upside down face. "Jerk would have worked."

I quickly swung my body around to face the underside of the bed which faced the door, hearing Evan purposely falling to the ground by the bedside. His hand shot out and grabbed my ankle forcefully.

"What are you doing _under_ the bed, Bel?" he asked. "Shouldn't we be on it? Isn't that better? You can rape me again in my daughter's clothes? And then, when I break free this time, I'll do what I should have done in the first place and snap your fucking neck!"

"NO!" I cried giving an extra kick. Evan's hand slipped on my sweaty skin and moved down to my worn, wet canvas sneaker which came off in his hand.

Using the opportunity, I propelled myself forward, hearing my Ramones shirt ripping on something sharp under the bed, but not daring to stop to examine it; my sole intent was getting to the bedroom door. I heard Webber leaping on the bed behind me before pouncing at me, but I grabbed the door and shut it quickly, making the man earn a faceful of wood as he met it and not me. I heard him swearing loudly behind me but didn't look back, running to the staircase and rushing down it.

My terror and odd excitement returned as I heard the door flying open at my back and knew that Evan Webber had emerged and was close on my heels, one of which was shoeless now. I felt my heart pounding and closer to dying from a heart attack than I had ever been before in my life. In contrast, I had never felt more alive, as well. I could feel every living tissue in my body and its desire for survival. I thought also of the man chasing me, his cock hot and ready to tear into me with his anger and need and my body was aroused in turn. I thought of the old Watership Down cartoon where Frith tells El-ahrairah " _All the world will be your enemy, Prince with a Thousand Enemies, and when they catch you, they will kill you...but first they must catch you._ " And I remembered my earlier thoughts...About how a dark and not even hidden part of myself enjoyed this all and the thought of what the man _would_ do to me if he managed to catch me after all...

Back down on the first floor, I made the mistake of turning the wrong way, my mind too alight with fright and adrenaline mad ecstasy to remember; I thought I was heading back to the living room and front door but I found myself in a never before seen foyer instead. Two large picture doors showed the backyard, being deluged with rain but knowing it was another chance at freedom, I started to try to open them only to find them as unmovable as the locked side door I had tried earlier. Gazing at them more closely, I saw that they had been tied shut together on the opposite side.

I started to sob as I heard footsteps and saw Evan Webber standing only a few feet away.

"Thought of that beforehand," he stated and pointed to his skull. "Can't have you leaving before time, can we? It's still storming out wouldn't want you to get _wet_."

My eyes darted to the man's member as he grabbed it and I saw a great amount of precum pooling in its slitted head. My terror swelled at the sight of that huge, demanding part of my hunter while my clit and vagina swelled in a hungry undesired admiration of it.

" _Little slut_ ," my inner voice said.

"No please," I said to both it and the owner of the beautiful, nasty leaking organ before I turned and ran into the next room. I realized that it was the kitchen where I had imagined Evan Webber fucking me. It was slightly different than the image formed in my imagination but not by much. There was a table with chairs ready for breakfast even if the father's children and wife would not be joining him after a particularly messy divorce which had run his name and reputation through the mud and had further driven him into madness while his wife had married her lawyer. The counters looked well kept for a man living on his own, except for a few stray items, one of which was the same rope that Webber had used to tie the doors in the foyer shut. Seeing another door in the kitchen, I knew instinctively that it too would be impossible to open due to rope or unless I had the right key. Looking at the kitchen counter's scattered objects, my eyes went to a knife collection in a large black box. I saw their handles sticking out and knew that if I could make it to them that I'd be armed at least.

Webber had increased his speed, however, obviously aware that letting me get to the kitchen, where weapons were easily available, had been a mistake. I felt his body ramming into me from behind, dropping me on to the cool and immaculately clean floor tiles of alternating black and white.

"NOOOOO!" I screamed, feeling a burst of adrenaline as I was finally caught by my predator.

Effortlessly he lay me down with my back on the floor. His hand went to my mouth, covering it as his other hand started to unzip my jeans. His knee was pressing into my thigh, pinning me to the floor as I tried to wriggle free underneath him. Half pulling and half ripping my jeans and underwear off from me, my other shoe and socks coming off along the way, the large man loomed over me as he still managed to pin me underneath him, his hand going to my mouth to muffle my screams.

Seeing my untrimmed bush, his eyes widened in shocked delight as they lowered to the furry mound that was my vulva. "Oh wow," he enthused. His fingers started to run appreciatively through my pubes and he gave my muffin a few squeezes. "I haven't seen that in a long time...some decent bush...I grew up in the seventies not this bullshitty cleaned up generation...oh that's dirty...I like that..."

My clitoris which had already come to life was relishing the man's petting of my furry pussy. I could feel it wet and peeking out from my already reddening and spreading folds, while my cunt beneath it spat out its cream, and I knew it was only a matter of seconds before Evan noticed it too. When his fingers brushed against something more wet and smooth than the hairy skin he was carressing, the man looked down to see my pink nub sticking up.  
"Oh...am I making you horny?" he turned to look at me in mad bemusement. "Are you a _bad girl_ liking this inspite of yourself?"

I started to shake my head but stopped and started to cry, not knowing what was the lie or the truth anymore. It was like the former DJ had become a radio station outwardly broadcasting and reaffirming my inner bully's taunts.

I watched, over the hand clasped around my mouth as Evan Webber licked his finger and then brought its spit covered tip to the clit. "If that was enough to turn you on, how about this?" he asked and to my horror started to rub the bit of pink flesh sensuously.

The feeling shot straight to all my nerves, pleasuring them as my mind begged for it to stop and my body begged for him to continue. More cream was flooding out as he continued to masturbate me, making me cry all the more.

"I want to _taste_ it," Evan growled raspily, staring at my pleasured, swollen clit hungrily. He was obviously making himself as aroused as he was making me, and I saw his cock still glistening from his liquid. While he stuck his tongue out, I watched helplessly as he slowly lowered his head towards my bud and I started to try to move my head to scream but only felt Evan's hand clasp my mouth even tighter. When the tongue finally met my clitoris the shock was tremendous. Soft pink flesh meeting soft pink flesh and the man following this by rubbing his tongue more forcefully against the clit made my cries of fright turn into moans of unwilling pleasure against the skin on the man's palm .

"You like that, you _bad girl_? _Bad girl_ want me to suck her _twat_? You think you might like _that_?"

"NO!" I wanted to scream but couldn't because of his hand and because, when he started to do just what he had threatened, I couldn't concentrate anymore.  
His lips wrapping around my twitching clit and the pressure of his suckle brought about a surge of fresh arousal which deepened the longer he worked the nub in his mouth until I felt the familiar sensation of needing to pee which hearlded my climax. It was a violent thing that made me cry out so loudly into Evan Webber's hand, that he couldn't help but remark about it. "Almost blew my hand off with that one...See who you were fucking messing with? This daddy still knows how to make a girl come. You think you were messing with a novice? I got miles on me and experience. You girls were the amateurs not me. You just had it easy because you were messing with a caged animal. I'd gotten lazy."

I was whimpering in satisfied ecstacy and scared shame. My body was some traitorous thing the man could work for his own crazed revenge and I couldn't stop it from responding just as he wanted it to. I aware that he thought somehow in his mind that he was talking to the two girls who had fucked him in one way and then had done it in another more painful one; that he believed he was getting revenge on them by raping them now too and I could almost feel sorry for him.

Only it _wasn't_ Bel and Genesis he was doing it to. It was me.

"But now my dick is feeling left out," Evan Webber said, giving it a few pulls and wetting it with his precum. "I think it's time we let it loose on you, huh? But I want to hear you scream now...truth is, with all of this thunder nobody will hear you anyway. Besides we're at the back of the house and the way I designed this sucker...well it's soundproof: we can hear out but no one can hear in."

He removed his hand from my mouth and I screamed anyway despite his words. Laughing the man, grasped my throat and then lowered his head and kissed me violently.

"No," I groaned when he freed me. "Oh please no..."

"You think I'm about to show you some mercy, WHEN YOU STOLE MY FUCKING LIFE?" Evan screamed down at me. "YOU DON'T FUCKING WELL DESERVE IT!"

"They weren't me," I started to weep, trying to avoid looking at his red and furious dick and how my cunt couldn't wait for its arrival. "THAT WASN'T ME EVAN!"

He looked down at my torn Ramones shirt and looked honestly confused for a moment; I thought I had reached him finally until he took its tattered edging in his big hand. "Yeah...you fooled me with this at the start. Hardly a sexy little number. But the rain made it hot. _You_ made it hot...and what can be more seductive than a woman that shares your interests? But now let's say goodbye to Joey, Johnny, Tommy and Dee Dee."

Rage on his face, the architect ripped the already torn t-shirt from my body and threw it away, leaving me to lie on the tiled floor in only my bra.

"Owww, black lace," Evan cooed as his fingers found a nipple through the lace and started to tease it. "Now there see...unedrneath it all...still a _bad, naughty girl_. One that needs to be taught a lesson."

Straddling my body, I watched as Webber took a cup from the bra in both of his strong hands and ripped it in two. My breasts fell out, pale and plentiful but hardly picturesque. Still both Evan and his cock seemed to find them to their liking. The same hands which had destroyed my bra now each took a breast in them and started to feel them roughly.

"Your nipples are inverted," he commented, blankly.

I threw my head back, prepared for an insult. What came, though, was the suprisingly gentle touch of his fingertips against them. I moaned softly, my breasts being too responsive and sensitive for their own good. Panting, I gazed up at Evan's face as he stared at my chest and nipples as if hypnotized. "This is a challenge to call them out...I'm up for it. I can win all of your little games."

Evan Webber brought his head down to my chest and started to work the same skill he had shown on my clit on my tits now instead. He sucked on them slowly while using his tongue.

"No, no, no," I whispered although the feeling was pure bliss of his mouth sucking and his tongue flicking and rolling around my swiftly emerging nipples.

"There, see," he commented raising his head from my chest. "See I can be damn good when I want to be. I just didn't want to be with two little sluts who just gave it away...and not very well either...or a wife who had a headache every second night. You get a headache?"

He touched my tearstained cheek and I looked away not wanting to tell my rapist that I would never have a headache if it was him doing this to me everynight.

"But my dick still isn't happy," Evan stated, taking hold of it. "I think it wants a piece of these big things."

Each of Evan's hands found one of my breasts again and he placed his erection in between them. He then pressed my boobs against it on either side, like two round fleshy bookmarks for his weeping cock. Forcefully the man started to move my breasts and thrust into my chest as my erect nipples tingled and pointed upwards between the member which was almost their matching shade.

"Oh stop it, please!" I cried as Evan Webber forced on me the fantasy of a titty fuck I had always harbored. I saw his member dripping out the fluid to help in its sliding and how the cock was oh so red against my big pale breasts and felt arousal as I saw the look of growing sexual bliss on the man's bearded face at the same sight.

"Oh, baby, why?" My dick looks so good sandwiched between your fat titties...those were unexpected too...but I love them."

I made the mistake of licking my dry lips and Evan suddenly seemed fascinated by how close the head of his cock was going towards my mouth. "Put it in your mouth," he stated.

I shut my lips together, tightly, blinked and looked away. "Put it in your mouth!" he said more forcefully.  
Tears falling from my eyes, Evan Webber lowered his hulking body down more on my lungs and I felt my breath slowly being taken. Struggling, suffocating, I gasped for breath only to find the man using the opportunity to put the head of his penis inside of my mouth. Seeing I was panicking, Evan said almost gently. "Use your nose, Erin; breathe from your nose now."

I did, and as I did, Evan mimicked my breaths, in and out, by similarly moving his cock in and out of my mouth, never taking it out enough for me to completely expel it though. "Give me some sucks and licks," he coaxed. "Unless you want me to sit on your lungs again."

Afraid, I started to lick and suckle the cock in my mouth, trying to ignore how aroused I was becoming from witnessing the man going wild in his lust as he continued to thrust over and into me.

" _You're getting off on him forcing you to suck him off?_ " the OCD voice returned but wasn't completely right.

Evan Webber did not want me to _suck_ him off.

"Now your cunt," he said suddenly pulling out of my mouth and breasts, which still felt the memory of his fingertips even after he had stolen his touch from them.

"NO!" I screamed and tried to crawl away, an act which took Evan unaware for he toppled off from me and on to the floor. He regained himself easily enough, however. Quickly grabbing both of my ankles this time, he pulled my naked body back towards him and placed me so I was half kneeling and sitting over his knees, his cock too horribly large in my ass crack. It didn't stay there for long though. Evan soon aimed it at my cunt instead.

"NO! STOP IT! I DON'T WANT TO!" I cried. "I'M A VIRGIN...IT...IT'LL HURT."

"Yeah right," he laughed. "Supposedly in your fucking thirties and you still have a cherry? You'd fuck everything and anything, Genesis or is it Bel...which one came to me today?"

"No, please," I begged and started to cry as he started to fondle my breasts. "I _am_...I _am_ a _virgin_ and..."

"You're a virgin with my precum all between your breasts?" Evan Webber stated and then started to pull on my nipples rubbing his body fluid into them. "You sucked my dick and you came here to destroy me AND YOU FUCKING WELL DID! JUST A GAME! WELL YOU WANTED MY COCK SO HERE'S MY FUCKING _COCK_!"

While one hand continued to pull on my teats and grab hungrily at my breasts, Evan used his other hand to spread me wide. I was crying out for him to stop, begging and whimpering, scared and turned on all at once.

"Please no, Evan...I'm Erin and I like you, Evan. I really do."

"Why did you do that to me then?" he asked half livid and half in sorrow. "I lost everything; _EVERYTHING_! EVERYTHING EXCEPT FOR _THIS_!" the man shouted as he vengefully pushed his engorged cock right up my never known pussy. It tore at the arrival of its lover at last. But though it hurt as terribly as I had always thought it would, there was something unexpectedly exhilarating in the agony as well.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I cried as he started to repeatedly and violently thrust inside of me and I knew what it felt like to be caught at last; the horrible and _wonderful_ feeling of having been caught.

The lightning and thunder continued as Evan Webber continued to pound into me, his hands cupping my breasts and squeezing them both painfully and pleasurably. I was screaming out loudly for nobody but my attacker to hear; some call that was half torment and passion, my mind screaming against the invasion by the determined member but my body basking in the glory of the first phallus it had ever welcomed.

"OH NO! NO! PLEASE! NO!" I was crying out, my body and my breasts bouncing up and down from the movement of his hips, thighs and cock.

As made us fall on to our sides on the kitchen floor, one of his hands went to my clit and began to include it in his assault on me. And oh how the bud reciprocated his touch! It was swelling in his grasp. My betraying cunt likewise was adoring Webber's penis in its tight, moist, warm tunnel. It clenched it as the man continued to push it farther and farther up until I felt as if it was filling me completely.

"No please, no please, no...please," I was mumbling my nipples tingling and adding to my pleasure from his rubs. Oh how I didn't want him to continue and how I wished we could stay frozen in this beautiful moment of rapture! To feel his cock forever and unrelentingly buried inside of me without mercy.  
He was back to pulling on my teats again as I felt the strong return of the urge to urinate starting which heralded yet another climax.

"No...no...no...oh...oH...OHHHH!" I began to scream more violently than ever as he brought me to orgasm, my vagina beginning another series of spasms on his penis calling forth Evan Webber's cum from his readying to spill cock.

Evan roared as he came with not so much a spilling but an enraged outpouring that felt like just another act of violence committed by the man inside of my body. Our breaths were almost painful sounding gasps as we tried to find some kind of peace after our joined bodies almost simultaneous and devastating climaxes. Feeling so much liquid oozing out from my body, and still feeling Evan inside of me, I lay there in something close to what Little Red must have felt like after suffering her wolf's appetite.

I started to cry feeling horribly used and blessedly contented. Like the bad, dirty girl the voice always said I was but also as if I had finally been given what I had always wanted deep inside. And perhaps needed to as well.

Then my wolf found the nerve and the strength to speak to me as the rain hit the windows outside.

"Don't cry...You were _wonderful_ , Erin...just _perfect_. You were a little early, you went to the wrong door and you hit the buzzer first before knocking but...You were worth it, baby," Evan Webber whispered tenderly holding the side of my face and kissing it with something close to love. "You were _so_ good. You made me come so hard...I haven't come like that since I was in High School. I'll have them pay you extra, Erin. Why didn't they ever send you to me before? Was it the weight thing? If it was that was stupid. I didn't have to hold back as much. Infact, I'll have to make sure that they only send you from now on...I wouldn't want anybody else. Who could compare to that?"

He was still holding my head and kissing my face with unexpected tenderness, his lips lingering and his breath hot as he whispered softly words I could hear perfectly but didn't understand. My tears met his fingers falling through them as I continued to cry out more, my body shaking.

"Shhh...shhh," he whispered and rocked me gently as I lay on the tiled floor of the kitchen weeping. I felt like a small child in his arms and like a grown woman also. I was all messed up, torn between an overwhelming sadness and a sense of violation; being aroused and satisfied as well. Too many contradictions existed inside of me; to have not wanted it and to have secretly craved it my whole life at the same time.

"Shhh...Erin," Evan Webber continued his gentle consoling of me in a way that strongly contrasted his own former rough behavior. "Shhhh...it's okay. You're such a good girl...such a _good_ girl."

He held me like the sweetest most considerate lover in the world, trying to comfort me when I felt that I didn't deserve it and none could be given. We remained like that until a knocking on the door disturbed it all for us.

"Wait here," Evan said, kissing my cheek and standing up as he fixed with his pants and his spent penis. "It's probably just Vivian coming to blame me some more. As if I don't do that to myself enough as it is. I'll be back for the next part. Just stay there Erin."

He needn't have worried; I couldn't do anything else.

I stayed lying dazed on the floor, my cheek against the cold tile, feeling my heart beating inside of my chest and listening to it too as I heard Evan opening the door to a stranger.

"Hi," the woman's voice said. "My car stopped, I dropped my phone and I was wondering if I could use your internet?"

"What?" I heard Evan's deep voice ask.

"My car stopped, I dropped my..."

"Are you from Fetishes? They already sent someone."

"What do you mean, they _sent_ someone?" I heard the woman's voice ask, losing its feigned sweetness. "Nobody told me. I didn't hear about it!"

"A girl named Erin Smyth...big, beautiful in her late thirties."

"Look you requested a thin girl in her twenties...you want 'em big you gotta ask for that kind of shit. That's another fetish entirely besides the specific rape kink you requested, Mr. Webber."

Silence.

Except for the thunder.

Except for my heartbeat.

"Look is this some kind of joke because I was what ten, fifteen minutes late?" the woman asked.

"A joke..." Evan Webber repeated, his voice sounding almost dead.

"Well if you wanna refund you're going to have to contact the company itself. I don't fucking handle that. But I'm keeping the tip. Have a good evening."

I was still lying on the floor as I heard the door being shut. It took about five minutes for it to be followed by the sound of Evan Webber walking very slowly back to the kitchen where he had left me. His footsteps were made heavy from dread realization and I could almost feel each one as he made his way back to me: the woman he had raped without meaning to.

I was shaking badly as he walked through the door and stared down at me in horror. I saw him look finally to the area between my legs as his vision was aided by the sudden illumination of lightning and how I had stained the clean white tiles of his immaculate kitchen floor with my blood. My eyes stayed wounded and weeping as he once again freed his penis from his pants and saw my blood covering it as well.

"No," it was time now for Evan Webber to say.


	3. Third Knock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I get my revenge on Evan Webber but things don't turn out as either of us expected.

I lay on the floor as Evan Webber looked at his blood covered dick and I vainly tried to understand how I should be feeling. A man I had just met and been sexually attracted to almost instantly, not an easy feat considering that I was demisexual by nature, had frightened me by chasing me throughout his house in some twisted game of hide and seek. Once he had finally found and caught me, he had joyfully raped me on his kitchen floor with a mad and passionate zeal. And all while it had been happening, my theretofore virginal body had revelled in its violent defloration and the way the man could make it feel despite my mind and soul screaming that it was wrong and my mouth begging for him to stop. Yet he hadn't; he had kept right on taking me until his own violent climax inside the hungry for it cunt, lying together on the kitchen tiles, my blood flowing out between my thighs and painting the white ones red with the loss of my virginity and from the force and relish with which he had stolen it from me. And after it all was over, my predator, my relentless hunter, had shown me the tenderness I had only ever dreamt of a man giving to me, whispering sweet and loving words in my ears as if we had just made sweet love instead of sex at its most violent. All this rollercoaster of fear and pleasure only for a knock at the door to disturb it all and reveal to both he and I that what had all just happened was not what Evan Webber had believed: I was not the prostitute he had just ordered to play out some rape fantasy where he could punish the women whom had wounded him and not have to worry about consequences or a smear on his already sullied reputation. I was an actual stranger whom had truly been stuck out in the storm, as she had claimed all along, without a phone and had just honestly come to him for help.

And now Webber was left with the very real repercussions of having raped the innocent woman whom had merely chosen the wrong door to knock on.

As I lay there, I watched in a dazed fugue as Evan began to pace his kitchen floor after having stared at me in horror for a solid three minutes, his hand over the mouth which had been agape beforehand. As he walked paces from one end of the room to the other, I noticed in a fog his hand moving from his mouth to the back of his head and how the lightning lit him up on occassion and how his foot hit the ground to match the thunder occasionally too. Suddenly he stopped and stared down at me while his hand returned to its former station over his mouth. I had the vague feeling that a question like "why" or a "how" might escape from him, or even more probable an apology, but the man either was too proud or felt it was not enough to set it free.

His gaze on me, I felt a sudden amount of anger at him for not offering me that one single word and the fright that maybe the man was still unhinged enough, as the newspaper article had claimed he was, to try to cover up his mistake with an even more terrible crime than the one he had wanted to play out. When Webber finally fell to his knees before me and went to touch my naked shoulder, I flinched and moved back, whimpering. He looked at his hand instantly, regretfully knowing that his touch might be the last thing to offer me comfort.

"Are...are you...do you...I'm...I'm..." Still he couldn't get that one word out and remembering him thrusting into me with such sexual pleasure, and his words afterwards that he hadn't come that hard since high school, I wondered if it was having such difficulty emerging due to his shame or more because of the fact that it simply would _not_ be true.

Recalling my body's own duplicitous bliss and that part buried deep inside of me that delighted in it, I found the question aimed at my own self then and starting to weep I held my body as a fresh sexual stirring began.

"Shhhh..." he whispered so softly it made me cry all the more violently. "Shhhh...it's okay...it will be okay..."

But it wouldn't be okay. I had been raped.

And I had _enjoyed_ it.

"We'll...we'll get you to a hospital if you...if you need it."

I saw him glancing at my blood covered rear and how he cringed, hating what he had done to me and also desperately wanting me not to need it. If I didn't, then his dirty little mistake need not be discovered along with his dark sexual kink. Once again, I became terrified for my life, fearing that if the man delved into such violent fantasies to help get himself off what other forbidden acts he might be capable of.

" _But look what you were capable of too_?" I asked, not my OCD taunting me this time but rather myself.

I looked up at him imploringly, wanting him not to kill me and wishing also he could help me with the pain inside of my mind and soul.

Evan Webber looked at me with so much sorrow and his own self hatred in his sad eyes that when he touched me again I let his hand stay on my shoulder.  
"Are you okay? Come on," he whispered helping me get to my feet.

His hands were warm and large about my shoulders and then around the skin on my waist as he led me from the kitchen, his body was strong behind me too. I flashed back to him pounding into me from behind and felt both fear and sexual excitement.

"NO!" I screamed and broke away from him, running to the knife box that I had been running to before he had managed to catch me. Pulling out a large butcher's knife, I ran to the piece of rope and then aimed the sharp weapon in Evan Webber's direction while my body trembled. The man stared at me as if seeing a large naked woman pointing a knife at him in his kitchen was only mildly distressing.

"Erin," he said calmly. "Are you okay? We have to get you to the hospital to make sure that I didn't hurt you."

He shut his eyes at his last few words, realizing that he had and there was no way of escaping it. I cried out as well, knowing that he had but remembering it in an almost blissful ecstasy. "How...how can I be sure you'd take me there?" I asked. "It seems like your good at pretending... _very_ good."

He held out his hands. "Not about this. I want to make sure that you're okay."

I looked around and started to cry again as I held the rope to my chest. It's texture was rough and scratchy and made me recall the feeling of Evan Webber's beard on my breasts, how it had been softer and had brought with it the pleasure of his soft, moist lips. I moaned and whimpered and the man took a step towards me which made me jump. "NO!" I screamed again and lifted the knife up. "Strip!"

"What?" Evan asked.

"Take your clothes off," I stated, tears running down my cheeks. "You...you c-can't follow me if...if you're naked."

Evan blinked, a peculiar look crossing his face, before he began to remove his t-shirt and pants. I tried to ignore the fact that I immensely enoyed the sight of his slowly revealed body and the full display of his package and the weapon he had taken me with and torn me from the inside. I loved his long rectangular torso and his strong thighs and legs. I found myself wishing that he hadn't just raped me so I could admire the beauty of his body without feeling such strong guilt and shame if I allowed myself to do so.

"Sit...sit in the chair," I demanded directing the knife at a chair that was at the small table.

Webber walked towards it, showing off unintentionally his nice full buttocks, and suprised me when he brought the chair closer to where I was standing and turned it around so that it was facing me. I looked at the seat as he put his same glorious ass on it and sat down, looking at me with a strange expression on his face. I saw a resolve and surrender inside of that expression, one which confessed that the man believed that this was what he believed he deserved. Oddly enough, his penis looked slightly hardened in his lap and I had to keep from looking at it, not from terror but desire.

"I'm...I'm...I'm gonna tie you up now...And then I'll get dressed and leave. But...but I'll reserve a cab fir...first," I told him. "I'll...I'll let someone know...know you need to be untied when I'm gone."

"Are you okay though?" he asked.

I ran my fingers through my hair and started to weep again. I was tired of being asked that when I wasn't sure if I was or not and especially not by the man who had brought me to the confused state in the first place. Looking around, I saw my panties. Running and grabbing them, I equally quickly ran and stuffed them in Evan Webber's mouth to prevent him from asking me that question again.

"I...I want to go back to my hotel room," I said, trying not to look at the man as I started to tie him up. "My...my cell phone should be finished recharging by n-now. And it...it has air conditioning and room...room service."

When my eyes went by accident to his face, I could see that he was crying not for himself but for me. Those tears made me feel worse in a way, knowing I was so pathetic that even my rapist felt bad for me but being grateful for his pity all the same and for his soft, human compassion.

As I moved down to bind his legs to those of the chair, I couldn't help but see that his cock had swollen up between his legs even more. It was as if my tying him to the chair was turning him on. Keeping my eyes on its length, I tightened the rope to test out my theory and saw it rise even more, some veins starting to emerge on its shaft. It looked so beautiful even with my blood covering it and I had to quickly stand to try not to look at it, recalling all too easily my wanting to suck on it when I had been waiting for a taxi which was never going to come.

Standing up, I gazed down into Evan's brown eyes as lightning flashed once more and I once again felt my attraction to him glowing just as powerfully. The fear I had felt for him and the lust collided in my soul. I couldn't reconcile the two emotions along with my hate and something which felt horrifyingly like love. That last was the most destructive. I could not love the man whom had hurt me. Nobody would let me. Least of all that bullying voice of self doubt that never left my head. Suddenly I found my hand forming a fist and striking the man for the pain and confusion he had caused me. The sound of the strike coincided with a loud clap of thunder and Evan's head went back at the same time his dick rose even more. I did it one more time only to find his cock just as easily responsive and I felt my clit coming to life again with equal vigor as if it had found its mate attatched to Evan Webber's groin and could only lustfully mirror its actions. Evan's head raised again and there was a dazed look of arousal in his eyes as my panties hung partly out of his mouth.

"Oh you liked that huh?" I asked, falling into the behavior he had exhibited with me on the kitchen floor. "Are you a bad, dirty boy, Evan Webber?" I inquired stepping between his parted legs. "You like that? You _bad_ boy?"

I got to my knees and started to grasp his phallus in my hands as I ran my hand up and down its length. I had already coated it quite well with my cream and blood and my palm slid along the shaft with ease. "You know, when I was sitting on that couch listening to the Ramones, all I could think of was sucking your dick...making you horny and happy," I confessed, tears coming out of my eyes. "Giving you what your wife was obviously not giving you...but I didn't because I'm a good girl...and good girls...they aren't supposed to do things like that."

The tears kept falling as I gazed at his reddened cock. "But, I guess, since you made me a _bad_ girl why not..."

I stuck my tongue out and ran it along the underside of Evan Webber's upraised penis and it twitched hot and moist against my oral piece of pink flesh. Reaching its tip, I took it in my mouth and heard the man it belonged to moan in reaction. Lustfully I turned my fantasy on the couch into a reality, only now I could taste my own fluids on the organ which had started to weep inside of my mouth while I licked and sucked on it. I liked the way the soft flesh of it felt against me and the way that the precum fell down my tongue and throat.

"Mmmmphhh," Evan grunted deeply and I suddenly removed the member from out of my mouth to lean forward so I could likewise take my panties out from his mouth too.

"I want to hear you," I said. "I want to hear you now..."

I noticed his red and big cock had once more found its way between my pale breasts and looking up into Webber's eyes, I saw him see it too. I pressed both of my breasts against the beast so it looked like some horrible mutated worm emerging between two snow covered hills. "YOUR DICK STILL WANT THESE BIG TITTIES?" I screamed at him as I started to manipulate my breasts to move against the throbbing member of Evan Webber. This was my revenge but as the man watched me pressing my breasts into his erection, and then as he looked back to my wide, tear filled eyes and I saw his arousal growing and heard his heavy breaths, I was getting horribly turned on again, my clit and my cunt fawning over the man as I pleased him. My nipples tingled as they rested next to my palms and I saw the tip of the penis so close to my lips I couldn't help but place it inside of my mouth to lick it free of its precum again.

Evan gazed down at me sucking his cock while it was nestled between my huge breasts and he called out as his penis gave a strong convulsion in my cleavage. Oh, I was turned on again almost out of my mind! Giving it to the bound man and making him look similarly aroused to the point of madness. I wanted him inside of my vagina again, the traitorous part of me which had welcomed him with sexual avarice. My cunt was twitching in hunger and I made a show of standing up slowly, my boobs still sandwiching his furiously dripping member. My breasts were covered thickly in precum and it dribbled down my slippery mammaries as I straddled Evan's legs

"NOW MY C-CUNT!" I shouted breathlessly in my state of sexual excitation as I lowered my body forcefully, feeling my nipples shooting out as his dick entered me for the second time and set my nerves ablaze for one blinding moment.

Thunder cracked so loudly I was amazed that the sky wasn't torn in two as I started to move my hips up and down on the man's rock hard cock. "Ohhhhhh!" I purred in delight feeling it sliding against my walls.  
Evan was breathing heavily as I stimulated his cock while he remained tied to the chair.

Still for all of my movement, I could not regain the wonderful and unwanted ecstasy the man had brought to me when he had taken me on the floor. I tried to find it again grinding more desperately in his lap but fulfillment was as elusive as trying to catch lightning in a jar.

"Not...not the same," I started to cry. "It doesn't feel the same..."

I moved about some more, my tears falling more fiercely as Evan Webber kept his eyes on me.

"You...you hurt me," I whimpered desperately. "I...I can't get it back now...you broke me and..."

Suddenly the man's arms shot out from the rope, breaking free from his binds as more thunder sounded. I felt my cunt come to momentary bright life again in my fear as I watched him reclaim his freedom and as his hand went around my throat and clasped it so I almost couldn't breath. His eyes were alight and intense as I looked in fright into his own and my arousal was once more back to the wonderful height he had brought me to without my will. He was going to kill me, I thought. He would squeeze my throat and steal my life and be rid of his mistake and the woman whom had tied him to a kitchen chair and taken him in return.

Still holding my vision, Evan Webber's expression changed to one of pure desire. "We gotta teach you to tie better knots, Erin," he said before kissing me with a fierce hunger.

Inside of his kiss, my heart still racing with adrenalin I found that frightened blissful woman inside of me again. His hands now free, the architect placed them on my hips and showed me how to move my body to place his engorged penis deeper inside towards where the pressure felt strongest and to hit my clit sat the same time.

"Got that?" he asked, grabbing my ass in his large hands.

"Y-YES!" I screamed.

"Good," he said pushing his face into my breasts and alternately kissing and biting them.

I was going mad again with ecstasy, feeling his cock alive and tearing into me from the way he had taught me how to move. His mouth on my tits was also causing me perfect bliss and when his lips would encircle a nipple and suck or bite the sensation was indescribable.

"Now say I'm a bad boy," Evan said as he cupped my breasts and pressed his head into them, kissing them and sucking on a piece of my smooth flesh after his order.

"You're a bad boy," I moaned. "So _bad_."

"Say I deserve this," he commanded and then ran his tongue all over my breasts already covered in his precum.

"You...you desreve this," I panted.

His fingers found my nipples and pinched them painfully. "Do it like you mean it."

"YOU FUCKING BAD BOY!" I yelled in pure pleasure, bouncing up and down on his cock and rolling my hips like the thunder. "YOU DESERVE THIS!"

Evan Webber threw his head back and moaned deeply as I felt his balls move underneath me and his penis starting to prepare for an unleashing.

"YOU LIKED HURTING ME...MAKING ME COME SO HARD I'M SURPRISED YOU DIDN'T BREAK ME? YOU...YOU THINK YOU CAN FUCK ME AND GET AWAY WITH IT?" I asked, both seeing and feeling how much I was turning him on and feeling my own climax swiftly approaching. "WELL LITTLE RED WANTS ALL OF WHAT YOUR BIG RED HAS GOT! GIVE ME YOUR SEED, EVAN WEBBER! SHOW ME IN YOUR CUM HOW SORRY YOU ARE FOR WHAT YOU DID TO ME!"

"Hit me," Evan breathlessly demanded and I did.  
He started to roar as his penis went off inside of my vagina and my fingernails dug into his back as our lips met passionately and my cunt began to pull out the seed from his furiously spasming and dangerous piece of flesh. My womb drank it like it could heal it in some way and I did feel better at least until both of us were spent and I fell against him, painting his chest with my tears.

"Shh...shhh..." Evan sounded again, petting my sweat covered back as he held me tightly.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, bringing my hand to his chest and feeling his nipple resting in the space between my fingers.

"Why?" Evan said, kissing my forehead. "This was the next part."

He continued to hold me as the storm finally began to die outside, the thunder becoming muted and the lightning leaving us all together.

* * *

Eventually we found our way back to the bedroom and the bed which I had hidden under and Evan had lain on top of. This time we were both on top of it, making love again in a far more common but still passionate way. After another still violent and shared climax, Evan Webber fell onto my chest and kissed my breasts as he explained the damage he had been left to struggle with on his own.

"After Genesis and Bel were arrested and Karen left me and wouldn't let me see the Jake and Lisa again...I felt even more helpless than when those two bitches put me through all of that horrible shit," he confessed, playing with my nipple. "The cops had them but the punishment seemed nowhere near the pain they had put me through. How do you measure that? And Karen...well I can understand _why_ she did what she did. But _not_ taking the kids away from me. That I will _never_ understand."

I kissed the top of his head as he continued to play with my teat.

"I think what bothers me the most about it is not being there to comfort them. I remember when they'd get scared of the thunder and come to me...that was when they were younger but...the memory sticks." I stroked his hair for a while before he found the courage to continue. "I had so much rage, a lot of it sexual due to what was done to me," he finally said. "That whole situation was so sexually charged and screwed up. Being seduced and then raped...my mind...my body...it was warped. I found this site and I contacted it hoping that I could finally get it all out of my system. To make some substitute suffer in their place.."

"Why one girl at not two?" I asked.

"I tried that at the start but really it was a waste of money...they all kind of seemed the same in my mind anyway, Bel, Genesis...Karen...and it never felt as good if it was the same girl they sent me. That's why I thought...I thought you were..."

He started to cry into my chest and kissed my bare breasts several times. "I'm so sorry."

I felt myself becoming aroused again as I blinked back tears and just tried to enjoy the feeling of my lover's lips and body. "I know. I forgive you," I whispered caressing his shoulder now.

Evan raised his head and looked into my eyes, clearly grateful but confused. "I can't forgive Bel and Genesis for what they did to me. How can you possibly forgive me?"

I took a deep breath before I said out loud words I'd been ashamed to confess to anyone before in my life. "You didn't want what they did to you. Well after the sex stuff which I won't touch because that kind of hurts me because I...I think I'm in love with you but..."

"You're in _love_ with me?" he asked looking at me over my boob. "You're in love with the man that raped you?"

I blushed and nodded, fearing he'd think I was strange. Apparently he didn't though for Evan Webber pushed his body up to mine and was soon kissing me before letting me tell him the rest of my painful confession.

"My mother wasn't exactly strict but I grew up taught sex was just for married people...but it always fascinated me and I had sexual feelings at a very early age. Too early. There was this incident with this boy in my neighborhood too when I was about four. He wanted to do something sexual or did...I can't remember. All I remember is him standing at a fence watching me on my swingset and then being in the living room with my dad being really upset and my mom being sad and silent. And I felt so guilty like I had done something _wrong_. I was repulsed and attracted to sex all at once. I remember, being about six and seeing in this one film this man about to rape a woman and being confused and excited by it... and then as I grew older it never got any better...probably what you experienced after what happened to you. I had these sexual feelings but didn't know what to do and rape always attracted me and I couldn't help it. I'd read or see sex scenes and picture myself as the girl and...and get aroused. I...I couldn't tell my mom and my sister...well she made me feel dirty if I even got near the subject. So I kept it to myself."

Evan was kissing my face again seeing my tears falling faster and my distress. "It doesn't help that I get sexually aroused when I'm frightened. Or that I have such shitty low self esteem... Thinking of a man I like wanting me enough to to hunt me down and take me even if I said no...wanting me, loving me enough...even though I know rape rarely has _anything_ to do with love or desire...excites me. I even came up with a safeword in case I ever found a man I loved or trusted enough to do it with.""

"What is it?" Evan asked in curiosity.

"Zebra," I answered. "Not sure why...maybe thinking of a lion taking one down...predators and prey. But it has to be a man I am attracted to still. I don't believe in sex without some real emotion behind it. And being demisexual and painfully shy I'm not attracted to a lot of men."

"But you were to this messed up son of a bitch?" Evan asked his shock mingled with bemusement.  
I nodded again, my chin hitting my breasts on the way

Evan kissed me between those same breasts and my body tingled from my nipples to my clit and cunt.  
"When you started catching me it's like there were two mes. The one that was scared out of her mind and the one that was blissed out by it all...I was turned on every step I took, every pounding of my heart. And when you finally caught me in that kitchen and did all of that to me it was terrible and perfect all at once, when you took me...it was like I finally felt I'd found true sexual release. I can admit that now. To you if to nobody else."

Evan was looking at me in that thirsty kind of way again and I felt a stirring in my groin once more.

"Want me to do it again?" he asked, kneeling and letting the blanket fall from off of him to reveal his naked body and his freshly hardened cock.

"No," I said, squirming in front of him, the uttering of the two letters turning me on all the more.

Evan didn't hear them, letting his hand stroke my inner thigh and make my clitoris swell all the more.

"No, don't," I whispered and the man found my clit and started to rub it. "No, Evan! Don't do that!"

But he kept right on caressing the nub. I started to kick at him but he grabbed my leg and threw it aside, spreading my legs farther apart and offering him a better view between them, which made him even harder. I felt my cream spilling out, cool from my hole and I saw the man staring at my most private of areas, knowing he wanted it. He placed his head between my legs to lap up my flowing liquid and I moaned out another "No," as I grabbed his hair. I started to scream it even louder as his appetite grew and he pushed his face closer into my muff.

"Owwwww," I cried. "Stop it...don't do it..."

Webber took his head out of my crotch and licked my cream from his lips. "I don't think I will," he said. "My dick's thirsty for some of your cream too. You little tease, you little cock tease. You make me too horny."

I covered my breasts with my arms and wriggled on the bed. "No...I'm a good girl."

"Oh you are but I'm a bad dirty boy that's gonna have you whether you want it or not," Evan Webber threatened, leaning over and ripping my arms from off of my breasts and using his knee to reserve his cock's place between my legs.

"OH NO, NO, NO!" I screamed as the architect lowered his head and nipped at my nipples, making me hot way deep inside of my cunt. "GET OFF OF ME! GET AWAY! I'LL...I'LL TELL ON YOU!"

"And who'll believe you when I've made you dirty with my seed," he whispered into my tingling breast as he rubbed his dick against my labia. "Gonna make you so dirty, baby girl...nobody's gonna believe you...Cuz I'll paint you as mine."

"NO! NO GET AWAY FROM ME!" I screamed at him, hitting his shoulder which made Evan growl in pleasure.

He started to look at me lustily and intensely and I felt my fear and arousal growing.

"No, you make me so horny," he said to me. "I'm gonna take you and I'm going to fucking love every second of it. You made this," he said and poised his leaking cock at my opening. "Now you gotta pay the piper, Erin."

"NO," I shouted. "GET IT AWAY FROM ME! IT'S TOO BIG ITS..."

Right at that moment, Evan pushed it inside, hot and spewing and impatient. Another wonderful feeling of invasion and my cunt rejoiced in the return of its playmate as I started to struggle. "GET IT OUT! IT'S TOO BIG ITS..."

But Evan wasn't about to heed that without the safeword, he was pounding repeatedly as I cried out, "NO! NO! NO!" like it was really "YES! YES! YES!"

" _BAD GIRL_!" my OCD screamed and it sounded like my mother, my sister all of the people that would say this was wrong when it felt so fucking right. " _Your being bad! Your being disrespectful and wrong_."

But then I started to scream in my body's pleasure and drowned it out completely. Evan was into it too. He felt frighteningly hard between my legs and he had a mad glint in his eyes as he stared at me wriggling underneath him, trying to fight him and get away but not having a chance of doing so while he was hulking over me and thrusting inside of me with cruel abandon.

"OH NO! LET ME GO! NO! NO! NO!" I yelled as the feeling of pressure peaked and then my orgasm came. "OH NO! STOP IT! STOP IT STOP IT!" I screamed at my body which was convulsing underneath my lover.

Watching my shocked face as I was wracked with bliss, I heard Evan cry out similarly as his penis started to convulse. He didn't keep it inside of my cunt this time however. He whipped it out before his coming and aimed it at my large chest and my face. I opened my mouth and caught it like rain on my tongue and rubbed it into my breasts, an act the man took over almost possessively. After his cock's final spilling, Evan held me again to him, falling to my side and pulling me on top of him, his cum getting on his own chest.

"Stay with me," he pleaded. "Please stay."

I held on to him but could not give him the answer he wanted.

* * *

We made love a few more times in various fashions. Sometimes feigning rape or punishment. Sometimes letting it just be sweet and perfectly normal. In between, Evan always begged me to remain with him instead of returning to my hotel and then eventually to Canada.

When I was dressing, at last, in one of his old t-shirts and pants, Webber seemed desperate in his pleadings as I sat on the edge of his by then very stained bed and he knelt in front of me.

"Please," I whispered. "I can't stay." I felt if I did the voice would be right and I'd be a disgrace to my mother, my sister the world that would claim it was unhealthy.

"Because of some voice that says it's wrong," he said. "It's not right; its not wrong; its just the way it is, Erin. Life breaks you and you're just left struggling to try to put the pieces back together and feel _whole_ again. I'm broken too, Erin...but in you I found that missing piece...and I am yours too. Please Erin...with you...it's the same _everytime_...it always feels as good as the first time and no matter how we do it. All I need, all I want is you. I'm done with Fetishes. I found my dark and light side within you, girl."

I was crying, confused by the feeling that I'd done something wrong again but feeling so right with him close to me.

"It reminds me of a poem I wrote once," I said. " _'I will not hide from my dark side, it simply would not do, For we are each other, we are one another, And you can never escape what is you._ ' And I can't escape her...But this...I don't know..."

Evan looked hopeful and grasped my hands in his.

"Bel asked me about destiny she said we don't pick randomly, that if she and Genesis were there with me that we had things to learn from each other. But that was a crock of shit! At least, with her and her damn friend. But here...you and me together we do have things to learn," he said, grabbing my shoulders. "Your kink and mine...Maybe this is destiny, Erin. Maybe this is God putting us together. You are my missing piece and I'm yours."

I looked down at my knees before he embraced me. " _See this was the wrong house_ ," my OCD said. " _You chose the wrong house. Never should have met Evan Webber and his dirty little game of pretend. Corrupting you. Shoulda listened to me sport. I always know what's best._ "

Evan held me tightly to him, his tears on my cheek.

Knowing no other way to make him let me go, I whispered one word:

"Zebra."

And Evan Webber immediately backed away.

* * *

I spent most of the rest of my vacation in a daze, wanting to go back to Evan, whom I had left devastated, but holding myself back whenever I was close to giving in. The day I went to the airport to catch the plane back to Ontario, I felt dreadful sorrow as my inner bully constantly praised me for doing the _right_ thing.

"Why it's my bad luck charm," my taxi driver said as I climbed in to the back seat and I recognized my fateful old friend with the moustache.

"Hi," I greeted. "Taxi fixed?"

"Yeah," he stated. "Listen."

He drove a bit and I heard nothing but the sound of an engine while I saw nothing but Evan Webber's sad face before I had left him. I looked out at the sky as we drove farther and frowned as I saw it darkening. "Is it calling for rain?" I asked.

The cabbie snickered. "It wasn't until you showed up."

I thought of destiny then. I thought of an architect madly trying to design his own life and how he was struggling desperately without someone to comfort in the absence of his stolen children and the piece of his soul he had lost when his life had fractured. And I thought of a woman broken in her own way whom tried to be good and whole when maybe God had allowed her to be broken so she could one day find her own missing piece by knocking on a door.

The right door after all.

A raindrop hit the window and I breathed in heavily as I heard the first clap of thunder.

"Forget the airport," I cried out. "Remember where your cab broke down that day?"

"Yeah."

"Take me there instead."

* * *

When I knocked on Evan Webber's side door, there was nobody else standing there and I just prayed to God that there was nobody inside playing the role _meant_ for me. From the sad look on the man's face when he opened the door and then the beautiful grin that replaced it, I knew that he had been telling me the truth: He hadn't called Fetishes again.

I was all he wanted and the only thing he needed too. 

"Umm..." I said. "My cab broke down and my phone is broken. I was wondering if I could come in and use your internet."

Evan tried to hide his smile but the hiding of his joy was the one thing he could not playact very well.

Neither could I for that matter.

"Yeah sure...sure come in. You're more than welcome to," he said beaming brighter than a flash of lightning. He stepped aside and motioned me inside.

I smiled at him, my big bad wolf with his broken heart, and entered his den, this time knowing exactly what I was getting myself into and surrendering wilfully to it. Evan Webber closed the door behind us on a world that may not understand but hardly mattered to us anymore anyway.


End file.
